


A Young Man's Observations

by lilsherlockian1975



Series: Lil Bit of Sherlolly [14]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Queen of the Mind Palace, Rehab, Romance, Sherlolly - Freeform, Sherlolly Appreciation Week, mollock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 05:20:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6182011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilsherlockian1975/pseuds/lilsherlockian1975
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An outsider's view of Sherlock during his stay in rehab. It's amazing what observing and not simply seeing can accomplish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Young Man's Observations

**Author's Note:**

> For day one of Sherlolly Appreciation Week. Queen of the Mind Palace, canon compliant prompt. Thanks to MizJoely for betaing this for me

The orderly stood and watched the tall man, the patient, stare at the wall as he had been for the last forty-five minutes. Michael had only been working at the rehab center for six months, but he had found it to be the most rewarding half year of his life. Sure he was just a mere nursing assistant, however here he was treated with respect, unlike at the last hospital where he'd worked. The doctors and senior nurses at this facility listened to everyone who came into contact with the residents.

Over the month since Mr. Holmes had arrived, Michael had spent a great deal of time observing the man, he was a bit of a celebrity after all. Oh, he knew better than to ever breathe a word outside these polished halls about the people with whom he was entrusted. But that didn't keep him from being curious.

The Great Detective had been completely belligerent the first week, deducing everyone within an inch of their lives. The staff had been briefed about his tendencies, though some of them had been reduced to tears. Michael was fascinated. After Mr. Holmes had insulted each employee and any other residents he could find, he seemed to withdraw into himself. He didn't participate in group, at least the ones that Michael had witnessed. He spent most of his time on the terrace chain smoking and avoiding contact with others.

Today, this behaviour, this was new. He seemed to be speaking silently to himself. Occasionally saying a word out loud, though Michael couldn't hear him. He moved slightly closer. That's when he heard him: _Hooper_ , he was saying. Mr. Holmes' eyes were unfocused, though that wasn't abnormal. Most of the patients looked quite lost at this stage.

"Hooper," he said it again. He spoke the word with reverence, like a prayer.

Michael was intrigued. He had no business prying, but he thought he should at least alert his supervisor.

When he did, the senior staff member dismissed it. "Who knows. At this point I doubt he's even aware of what he's saying."

"He's not still being dosed is he, sir?"

"No, his brother requested he be given nothing that wasn't absolutely necessary. He does employ some kind of memory technique, perhaps he's trying to remember something. Keep an eye on him son, you're doing a fine job."

"What if it's important? Something to do with a case?" Michael asked.

The older man smiled. "I'm sure it's nothing."

"Do I have permission to check his file, see if I can find a connection?"

"Who's the detective now?" He laughed kindly. "Go ahead. Let me know if you find a _clue_." He winked.

So the young nursing assistant was granted access to Mr. Holmes' files. It didn't take long to find the name Hooper. The name was on the list of people allowed admittance to the facility. _Who are you?_ he wondered. He told his boss what he'd found and asked if he could make contact with this Hooper.

"Now, you're playing with fire, son."

"He's not participating in any of his recovery, sir. He's not improving," Michael argued.

"I'll have to speak with his brother first. I will let you know."

Michael went back into the public room, Mr. Holmes was nowhere to be found. He wasn't on the terrace either. When the young man walked toward the patient rooms and glanced in to see if the enigmatic detective was there he felt himself being pushed from behind. Suddenly he was shoved up against a closed door and the man in question was inches from his face.

"What gives you the right?" Mr. Holmes growled.

"What are you talking about?"

"You know exactly who I am, so you know that lying to me is completely pointless. What gives you the right to pry into my personal life?"

Though panic was rising, Michael knew he had to at least attempt to be brave. "I heard what you were saying. I simply wanted to help."

Mr. Holmes looked confused for a split second. " _Saying_?"

"You were whispering Hooper over and over again. I was given permission to look in your file. I- I thought a visit would do you some good… that's all." The older and _larger_ man released his hold and stepped back. "Though how on earth you figured out what I did, I'd love know," he said rubbing his throat.

"I said that name out loud?"

"Yes, yes you did."

He waved a hand casually in the air, turning half away from the orderly. "Means nothing. Eight more weeks of this pointless sentimental time-wasting, and I can get back to my life." He turned back to Michael. "Hooper is none of your concern. Do you understand?"

"Of course, sorry sir." Michael started to leave. "Can I just say something before I leave and you go back to brooding and feeling sorry for yourself?"

Mr. Holmes actually looked shocked. "You can try."

"You looked peaceful. While you were speaking that name, you looked peaceful for the first time since you arrived. I thought if you saw her…"

The man cut him off with a smile. A very unpleasant smile. "You're quite wrong, young man. Seeing Miss Hooper will bring me no peace." He turned and paced to the window.

* * *

Unfortunately Michael had already set things into motion. He spoke to his boss and told him about his encounter with the detective. Evidently Mr. Holmes Sr. saw his brother's outburst as a positive rather than a negative. It made absolutely no sense to the young man.

The next day as he watched a petite woman walk through the visitor's entrance dressed in a lose fitting jumper and trouser combination, he was more than shocked. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but it wasn't this. She was small and, well, perhaps plain would be the best way to describe her. The closer she got, however he saw her large brown eyes and delicate features. There was a loveliness about her, that was clear.

She was escorted to the visitors lounge and a doctor and nurse went to fetch Mr. Holmes. The orderly followed at a distance, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Michael instantly knew that they hadn't informed the man about the visit. He stopped and stared when saw the woman. She stood up and smiled. Mr. Holmes did not.

He was very concerned that this was about to go horribly wrong. Then suddenly the woman crossed the room to stand in front of Mr. Holmes. Michael could just make out what was said as she inched closer to the man.

"You were angry, so… angry," Mr. Holmes said.

"When, Sherlock? I haven't even seen you," she replied softly.

"I thought… no, you did. You hated me."

She smiled as she cried. "I've never hated you. What on earth are you talking about? And I'm not angry. I'm sad."

He nodded and his demeanor seemed to change as he looked at the woman in front of him. "You should, you know. After… everything. But I thought it was over… I thought…"

"It's not now. Mycroft, he told me…"

"Please don't tell me you've been spending time with _him_ in my absence."

She laughed, though tears were still pouring down her cheeks. The detective reached up and carefully wiped her tears away with his thumbs. "I've never actually seen you cry before, Molly. I don't deserve these."

Michael felt intensely guilty for witnessing such a personal exchange.

"Don't do this to yourself again. The world needs you, Sherlock. I need you. Even if…"

He cut her off. "Can you forgive me?" he asked, still holding her face his hands.

She nodded and he released her.

He cleared his throat. "Okay good. I suppose… I should try a bit harder. Perhaps I can get out of this hell hole sooner that way."

"Just… be well. That's all any of us want."

"Is that _all_ you want, Molly?" he asked.

Several moments passed as they stared at each other. Finally she spoke. "I'd also like a hug. You've never hugged me, Sherlock. And like I said… I'm sad."

The man grabbed the tiny woman and pulled her close, holding her to his chest, his head resting on her shoulder. There were more words spoken, but Micheal had to turn and walk away. He'd seen enough. Besides it was time for his break. He went outside for a fag.

He sat down on a wooden bench and pulled out his mobile. "Annabelle?" Pause. "No, nothing's wrong, I just had a moment and wanted to say hi." Pause. "Calm down. Can't a man call his girlfriend for no reason other than to tell her that he loves her?" He laughed. "Yeah, really that's it." Pause. "I'm coming by tonight after work, okay? I love you," he said before ringing off.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Comments welcome. ~Lil~


End file.
